


Alteration

by CantatriceX (Cantatrice18)



Category: Oz: The Great and Powerful (2013)
Genre: Gen, Good versus Evil, Light Sadism, Public Humiliation, Redemption, Rescue, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/CantatriceX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped on the dais in front of a crowd of thousands, Glinda is prepared to meet death. Theodora, however, has something else in mind for her, and Evanora must ask herself whether vengeance and power are really worth the price of losing all remnants of her humanity. </p><p>A retelling of the Emerald City scene, and what could have happened had one character remembered her conscience at the right moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alteration

So helpless, so weak. After all that work, it had taken surprisingly little to bring the good witch Glinda down. Now she knelt before the assembled masses, her wrists tightly chained to posts so that she was forced to remain still and subdued. 

Raising her hands above her head, Evanora allowed green lightning to surge into the body of the young witch before her, ignoring the cries of outrage from the crowd. Despite years spent longing for this moment, the moment Glinda would be in her power, she felt nothing at all. Her actions were mechanical, routine; she took no pleasure in them. She knew that it was the desolation of her withered heart that kept her from feeling. Surely there could be no other reason for this emptiness when all around her things were going exactly as she’d hoped. She paused, the lightning returning to her hand, as she saw her sister soar above the crowd towards the dais. Theodora landed with an ungraceful thud, her broomstick clutched in one clawed hand. Amber eyes surveyed the scene, and the green witch threw back her head and laughed in triumph upon seeing the chained captive. The sound sent shivers through everyone listening, and even Evanora detected a crazed note in it that made her nervous. Theodora had become far more powerful and wicked than Evanora had ever imagined, her instability increasing daily. Lives were insignificant to her, so long as she wreaked vengeance upon the Wizard and his followers. She had called for the outright slaughter of Glinda’s people by the winged baboons, with no chance for retreat or escape. As her piercing eyes raked over the blonde witch’s body, Evanora knew with absolute certainty that Glinda stood no chance of survival. The thought made her feel odd. She’d hated Glinda for years, railed against her, cursed her name at every chance. She’d delighted in visions of the helpless witch chained at her feet, of the whole of Oz being united under her control. Certainly she’d sent out patrols after Glinda before, their orders nebulous at best. Indeed, she had sent Oz himself after the good witch, though she had never expected him to make it past the dark forest. Despite her hatred, her lust for power and control never truly took into account the seemingly obvious fact that Glinda might die. She had wanted the young witch to be powerless and weak, enough so that she could be dominated and turned to the side of wickedness. Even as lightening coursed from her body to Glinda’s she’d only aimed to break the woman’s will. Yet despite her efforts the good witch remained composed, serene even while she trembled from the pain. Theodora was having none of it; her eyes burned with the strength of her hatred as she drew near the kneeling woman, but to Evanora’s surprise Theodora turned to look back, a half smile crossing her lips as she raised a brow at her sister.

“What a pretty one we’ve captured, haven’t we, Evanora?”

Evanora nodded slowly, unsure of what to say, but Theodora continued. “I wonder if we mightn’t take a bit of that beauty with us – she won’t need it, where she’s going.”

Another laugh followed this macabre statement, and Evanora glanced at Glinda. There were ways, of course, to steal a person’s youth and beauty, but it wasn’t truly necessary. After all, Evanora had found ways of preserving her own good looks, and Theodora had rejected any attempt to mask her hideous green transformation. 

Theodora now began to circle the captive witch, drawing closer and closer. Leaning in, she allowed one long, dirty fingernail to catch a strand of blonde hair. She rubbed it between her fingers as though feeling the weight of it. “So lovely. So light and good, every inch of you. Is that what he wanted?”

Glinda seemed confused, but Evanora realized her sister’s meaning. How could she not, when she herself was responsible for planting the idea in Theodora’s head that the Wizard had taken Glinda as his new lover, discarding Theodora in the process? Evanora had no idea whether or not it was true that Oz had seduced Glinda. She wouldn’t have put it past him: the man was a skirt chaser, eager to get his hands on any pretty woman that crossed his path. Evanora’s only intent had been to awaken the darker emotions within her sister, and the tale of Oz and Glinda as lovers certainly helped push Theodora over the edge. Now it seemed that the green witch’s vengeful streak was showing through. 

Theodora had not let go of Glinda’s hair. Rather, she had drawn closer, standing behind the young witch and running her free hand along the woman’s arm as though testing it. “Yes…delicate as a little bird.” Her hand did not stop as it reached Glinda’s shoulder. It twined around the young woman’s throat and Evanora could see her sister fighting the urge to snap the blonde’s neck in half. Yet Theodora resisted, her nails leaving light red scratches on the good witch’s pale skin. Her fingers walked their way down the woman’s back and Evanora saw Glinda shiver ever so slightly. Then, without warning, Evanora saw Glinda’s eyes widen with fright, her lips parting as she gasped. Moving closer to get a better look at what her sister was doing, Evanora felt a sudden wave of cold. 

Theodora had used her long, sharp nails to cut through the ties of Glinda’s bodice. Beneath that the young woman’s chemise was in tatters, torn apart by fast moving claws. Several long scratches bled slowly, but it was not the blood that shocked Evanora. Her sister had finally let go of the witch’s hair and had slid both hands beneath the woman’s clothes. They snaked around the Glinda's torso and came to rest beneath the woman’s breasts. Evanora saw that Glinda was trembling, this time from fear. Theodora yanked her back so that the two were pressed up against one another. “Does he touch you like this?” Theodora hissed, her hands moving to cover Glinda’s small breasts. “Do you like his hands on you, claiming you?”

Glinda could not speak. Evanora felt a pang of dread as she watched the young woman’s weak struggles. She had been the one to do this - she had made up the tale of Oz and Glinda as lovers, had goaded Theodora into believing it. The more she saw Glinda’s distress, the more certain she was that she had been wrong, that the good witch had kept her distance from the rakish Oz. Not that it mattered now – Theodora would never believe in the captive woman’s innocence. 

The green witch’s teeth were bared now, her whole expression ravenous. “Well, you aren’t his, not anymore. Now you’re mine.”

Leaning forward, she sank her teeth into Glinda’s shoulder, staining the white skin red with blood. At the same time she moved a hand down the length of the woman’s body to rest between her legs. Glinda’s head jerked back, a cry of pain escaping her lips, and for one brief second her eyes met Evanora’s. As the witch saw the sheer terror that threatened to overwhelm the young woman, she felt burning heat fill her veins. This was wrong. Power was one thing, even torture in pursuit of power, but this… The blonde struggled vainly, but would soon succumb to exhaustion, and then Theodora would have free reign to inflict whatever perverted tortures she wished upon the good witch. This was not a power play, a way to intimidate the populace or to turn an enemy into an ally. This was sadistic pleasure at its worst. No matter how much Glinda had been a thorn in her side, Evanora was not about to see the witch’s body defiled and mutilated, her purity torn from her by a vindictive fiend whose rage was based off of a lie. A lie that Evanora herself had told. 

Before she knew it she had raised her hands once more. The power grew to full force faster than it ever had before, and in the blink of an eye lightning had formed a crackling arc connecting her and her sister. 

Theodora screamed in pain and shock, stumbling back, and let Glinda drop. The young witch hung limply from her chains, her hair falling to cover her face. Evanora froze for a moment, unable to believe what she had just done. Glancing at her sister, she saw the unbridled fury in the wicked witch’s gaze. “How dare you! How da—“

All at once the square erupted with noise. An explosion was set off, a giant column of smoke arose, and within it a huge face appeared. There was confusion among the people, but the witches knew at once to whom the face belonged.

“Oz!” hissed Theodora, her rage diverted towards her most hated enemy. She leapt to the edge of the dais, spitting curses at the smoke creature. Evanora took advantage of the distraction, dropping to her knees beside the captive Glinda. The blonde appeared to be conscious, and so as quickly as she could Evanora undid the spell on the manacles and lifted the younger witch to her feet. Half helping, half carrying her, Evanora whispered a spell that allowed them access to a narrow passageway. The door slid shut behind them, leaving them in almost complete darkness, but Evanora knew the way well enough. Getting a firmer hold around Glinda’s waist, she walked steadily down the dark passage and towards the throne room. 

The hidden panel slid aside and Evanora stumbled into the light, blinking at the unfamiliar brightness. She hesitated, then laid Glinda down on the stairs. Even now, the throne was too sacred to her; she wasn’t about to be the one to put Glinda on the royal throne, even for a few moments. She sat with a thump beside the blonde, stretching her neck. Her muscles ached; though Glinda was far from heavy, she had gradually become more and more reliant on Evanora to remain standing. Now, in the light, Evanora had her first chance to see why.

The young witch’s bodice had begun to show stains of red, as the blood from Glinda’s injuries sank through the fabric. There were bites along the woman’s neck and shoulder, all blackened and charred looking as though Theodora’s teeth had been red-hot. But most apparent were the jagged black lines, edged in an angry red, that snaked across the woman’s back. Gingerly pushing aside the young woman’s bodice, Evanora saw that they continued onto Glinda’s torso. She realized, with an unfamiliar pang of guilt, that only one thing could have caused such marks. She’d never used so much lightning on a single person before, but then, she’d thought Glinda’s powers would protect her. Without her wand, it seemed, Glinda was nothing more than a woman, and a fragile one at that. Some of her old distain returned and for a moment the visions of a vanquished and surrendering Glinda filled her head. A soft moan reached her ears and drove the visions away. The blonde witch, always ivory pale, now had turned a shade of ghostly white. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing deep blue eyes that stared blankly upwards at the wicked witch. As their gazes met, a long suppressed memory rose to the surface of Evanora's mind.

She walked slowly down the stairs, frowning as she thought of the council meeting that had just concluded. Representatives from all districts in Oz gathered monthly, ostensibly to discuss the business of the country but really to argue over which region deserved the most funding from the national treasury for pet projects. A miniature village in Munchkinland to make residents feel tall, or a silver statue of a teapot to commemorate the founding of China Town, honestly... as though the normal business of running a country with such diverse ethnic groups was as simple as casting a spell. She sighed, feeling a wave of exhaustion roll over her, then froze as she heard an odd rustling sound. Her sharp eyes darted around until they stopped on a long velvet curtain in the corner. An oddly shaped lump was visible at the bottom of the curtain, and a hint of white fabric was peeking out from beneath the green fabric. Walking silently to the curtain, Evanora pulled it aside to reveal a disheveled little girl, her dress muddy at the hem and her blond curls falling free of her tiny gold crown to frame her face. Her eyes were red from crying, but she quickly turned away from Evanora to keep the woman from seeing her distress. The older witch sighed, gathering her skirts around her and sitting gracefully beside the child. "Glinda, what happened?"

The little princess stared down at the floor, lower lip trembling. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Evanora placed a hand beneath the little girl's chin and turned her head so that the two were face to face. "That's not true, Glinda. You shouldn't lie to me."

Glinda's eyes widened. "I'm not lying! Really I'm not, I will be fine, I just...just..."

Evanora took a moment to inspect the girl's appearance, frowning as she noticed tinges of red on the girl's white dress. "Are you hurt?"

Glinda didn't answer, which Evanora took as a confirmation. "Show me, Glinda."

She said it with enough command that the princess had no choice but to obey. Drawing back her skirt, she revealed a badly scraped knee that bled slowly through the crude bandage the girl had fashioned. Evanora sighed. "How did this happen?"

"I was just trying to keep up." Evanora detected a hint of a whine in the girl's voice. "I just wanted to play, but they said I was too little. They laughed at me."

Glinda looked as though she might cry again, so Evanora quickly shook her head. "No more crying. Witches do not cry, Glinda, not even little witches."

Glinda gazed up at her in surprise. "Not ever?"

Evanora met her gaze firmly. "Not ever. Instead of crying, we do something about our problems. Now, if you want to play with the other children, then find a way to make them respect you. They'll never take you seriously if you cry." 

Glinda bit her lower lip, but looked determined. "I will. I'll make them see - I'm just as good as them, even if I am smaller."

She tried to stand, but gave a small whimper as she rested weight on her hurt leg. Evanora grabbed the child's arm to keep her upright, then closed her eyes and searched for the right spell. Running a hand over the girl's knee, she whispered a few choice words, then watched as the skin healed until no one could tell that the wound had ever happened. Glinda was staring, first at the healed knee and then at Evanora, her mouth hanging open in amazement. Evanora laughed and pushed the child lightly away. "Go play, little witch. You'll be doing magic like this soon enough."

Glinda grinned and raced away without a backward glance. Evanora watched her go, feeling an odd warmth in her chest. As she rose to her feet and walked quickly from the room, she realized with a start that she was no longer tired. Perhaps the girl's energy was infectious. At any rate, she felt inspired to go back to the council representatives. It was time to make them respect her for the powerful witch she really was. 

Evanora blinked, clearing her mind of the memory, and realized that at some point she had shifted so that Glinda's head now lay in her lap. The blonde was breathing shallowly, her face lined from the pain. Her eyes were clear, though, as she looked up at Evanora. When she spoke, her voice was soft and slightly hoarse. "I knew you'd help me."

Evanora felt a flash of annoyance. "You shouldn't have counted on that. I would have left you out there to die, and gladly helped, if she hadn't..." 

The memory of what Theodora had done to the young witch made her trail off. Glinda, meanwhile was smiling sadly. "Yes. I understand. Thank you."

Evanora looked away, unable to bear the sight of Glinda's injuries. She knew what the blonde was hoping for, and she was unable to follow through. "I can't heal you. I would have thought that much was obvious."

Glinda sighed, then winced, her hand moving unconsciously to rest over her heart. "I understand. I can't expect it of you, not after all we've been through, fighting for so long. But thank you for rescuing me from your si-- from my chains."

Evanora gritted her teeth. "It isn't that, you silly child. Wicked witches can't heal other people. It isn't in our natures, The source of our power does not allow it." She glanced quickly towards the green gem around her neck. "I'm not saying that I'd heal you even if I could, but the choice isn't mine to make."

Glinda nodded, her eyes closing, and for a moment Evanora felt a flash of fear. She had never stopped to imagine life without her greatest opponent. With no goodness left to fight against, what would she do? Who could she hate, except herself? She dreaded the thought of such loneliness and despair, and without even knowing it she found herself cradling the good witch in her arms. The softness of the woman's skin and the sweet scent of her hair reminded Evanora yet again of how very young the witch was. Evanora was a century older by comparison, despite her appearance that was frozen in time. Dimly she realized that the blonde was smiling, though her eyes remained closed. "Please, Evanora, be good to this realm. Do not avenge yourself on my people: they were only following me."

Evanora nodded, feeling an odd tightness in her chest, and looked away. Then she froze, staring. A little girl stood in the corner of the room, her porcelain features betraying her shock. In her hands there rested a long, thin rod capped with a sparkling diamond. Realizing that she'd been spotted, the girl tried to run, but Evanora snapped her fingers and with a frightened squeak the girl flew across the room until she hovered in front of the two witches. Glinda tried vainly to reach for the girl, but she barely had the strength to move and the effort made her moan with pain. Evanora narrowed her eyes at the little girl. "Give me that wand, child." Her voice took on an ominous tone, echoing around the marble room. "Do it now."

To her surprise, the china girl shook her head, her eyes fixed on the fallen good witch rather than the threatening brunette before her. "It isn't yours. I'll never give it up. I know what will happen if you break it - Glinda will die!"

Evanora rolled her eyes. "She's dying already, you stupid little thing, can't you see that? Now, give me--"

But her command was interrupted by a soft voice coming from the witch in her arms. Glinda was gazing lovingly at the doll, a hint of her old smile visible on her lips. "China girl, please do as she says." The doll looked as though she was about to protest, but Glinda held up a shaking finger. "No arguments, dear. I want her to have it now. It won't help me anymore, after all."

The doll glared at Evanora. "Put me down first. Then you can have it."

Evanora matched the girl's glare. "You had better not run - I can be a lot nastier when people try to cross me."

The doll tossed her head, trying to appear unconcerned, but Evanora could tell that she'd won - the doll would do as she was told. Carefully lowering the child to the ground, she plucked the wand from the girl's grasp the moment her tiny porcelain shoes hit the marble floor. As she did she felt a surge of power rush through her veins. The wand's energy, laced as it was with Glinda's goodness, mixed with her own brand of magic to form a new hybrid. She felt refreshed, almost euphoric, and she realized that she now had enough power in her control to command all of Oz for centuries to come. She began to laugh, but stopped abruptly as she felt a tug on her skirt. Looking down, she saw that the little China Girl had not run away at all, but was staring at the woman in the wicked witch's arms. Pointing at Glinda with a trembling hand, she looked up at Evanora pleadingly. "Please, help her. Make her well again. She's all the family I have, now."

Evanora was torn. On the one hand there remained countless years of frustration and annoyance that Glinda had inflicted upon her, dozens of sleepless nights as she'd plotted how to best bring down her nemesis. On the other hand, none of her plots had included the jealous ravings of her sister, Theodora, or had any attempts to defile the purity for which the young woman was so renowned. And they had certainly never predicted Glinda voluntarily relinquishing her own wand, with full knowledge of what the destruction of the wand would mean. Evanora knew Glinda was likely playing her, trying to get her to restore the other witch's power and, in doing so, weaken her own reserves of magic. It was a ploy that Evanora could easily brush aside, but the presence of the injured woman in her arms was not something so readily ignored. With every passing minute she could feel Glinda's body grow weaker; her heartbeat became slower, more erratic; each breath caught in her throat. It was not hard to see that the witch didn't have much time left. And though the china doll begged for mercy, Glinda uttered not a word. It was this last point that made up Evanora's mind. Raising the wand above her head, she uttered the most powerful spell of healing and regeneration she could remember. It was not easy: so much time had passed since she had been a user of good magic. The wand glowed softly in her hand, but with each word she spoke the gem flared brighter and brighter. A cool green light spread to cover Glinda's body, sparkling gaily over the very sites of the witch's most horrible wounds. The light sank down until it was beneath the blonde's skin, and Evanora heard the young woman gasp. Her own thoughts were too concentrated on the task at hand to take heed of her surroundings, and it was not until she felt a rush of heat at her back that she realized how foolish she'd been to let her guard down. She ducked, her body instinctively moving to cover the fallen witch, and closed her eyes as a rush of fire collided with the stairs above her, barely missing her head. Twisting around to find the source of the attack, she saw that Theodora had returned. Evanora had never seen her sister more livid, not even when she'd first seen Glinda and Oz together in Evanora's scrying ball. The witch's green face was twisted with rage as she looked at the pair on the stairs, a new fireball in her hand growing larger every second. "Betrayal, sister? After I trusted you to fight with me against all that that filthy wizard and his tart had planned? You dare protect her, that conniving slut, after calling for her destruction? I thought blood meant more to you than that. Now I can never truly call you "sister" again." Theodora raised the hand holding the fireball high above her head, taking aim at the women. "Die, then, you and that whore with you. I hope she was worth it."

Evanora knew there was no chance of escape. Glinda was barely clinging to consciousness, and couldn't even stand under her own power. Closing her eyes, Evanora let her power flow through Glinda's wand and form a protective shield over both of them. The fireball fizzled out as it hit the barrier, leaving no trace it had ever existed. 

Theodora looked surprised, though not as surprised as Evanora felt. Shields had never been her strength. Defensive magic was a last resort, and she'd always considered it a waste of time. After all, no battles were won through defense. Black magic was not suited to the task of protection, and any shield she created should have been weakened or even broken by Theodora's hate-fueled attack. Yet this shield held firm, emitting a cool green glow as it hovered between the women on the stairs and the black-clad witch. Evanora looked down at the wand in her hand with new respect. She’d had no idea Glinda held such power. If the little blonde had truly possessed the means to defeat the wicked witches, why had she not used her skill to protect herself from being captured or being exiled in the first place? As though she could read Evanora's thoughts, the good witch reached with trembling fingers to touch Evanora's shoulder. "I didn't want to use its power for conquest or battle. That isn't what it is meant for. And I do not believe this war can be won through magic alone."

Evanora nodded hesitantly. It was quite possible that the wand was as antagonistic to aggressive magic as her power was to defense. With both types of power in her grasp, Evanora held enough magic to defeat her younger sister easily. But she could not attack without exposing Glinda to Theodora's fire. The barrier kept magic in as much as it kept magic out. To attack, Evanora would be forced to let the barrier fall. Another fireball slammed into the barrier and Evanora winced. Theodora had always been doggedly determined about anything she really set her mind to, and the wicked witch would not give up until she'd exhausted herself completely. By that time, who knew what condition the barrier would be in? Evanora decided to revert to her strongest tactic, and one that exhausted no magical resources whatsoever: persuasion. She has always been able to wrap people around her little finger with a well-timed glance, a flattering word. Theodora was easily manipulated, that much was evident by her now sickly-green features. It was through Evanora's scheming that the witch had become so powerfully wicked in the first place. Evanora had sought an ally, but in the end the jealous seed she herself had planted in Theodora's mind had taken over. The newly wicked witch was too short sighted to think of ruling a united Oz, and too vindictive to be allowed control over the flying baboons or even the guardsmen. Evanora had created a monster, but hopefully one that could still be persuaded and misdirected. She had to try, anyway. 

Taking a deep breath, she let the barrier fall and stepped away from the stairs to stand before her sister. "Honestly, Theodora, must you be so childish? I would have thought you'd have seen right away why I did what I did."

The wicked witch sneered. "I see very clearly. You decided to take pity on her. You, who have always derided mercy as a weakness, chose to rescue our enemy. Or perhaps..." Theodora's eyes narrowed into slits, "perhaps you wanted her for yourself, just as you wanted Oz!"

Evanora knew she had to get away from this line of questioning. It was no good denying that she'd had any interest in Oz; she herself had lied to her sister in order to increase Theodora's jealousy. Shaking her head, she laughed softly. "Me? Want her, that little blonde fool? Really sister, you insult my taste." Theodora looked as though she were about to speak again, but Evanora cut her off. "I 'rescued' her, as you put it, because I knew her wand had to be around somewhere. I'd checked the forest edge, where we'd captured her, and all along the route we flew. I thought she might have it on her person, but after you began to...examine her more closely, I realized the truth. I saw then that she must have given the wand to one of her supporters for safekeeping, and that surely the rebels would try to return the wand to their captive queen. And sure enough," Evanora held the wand up so that it caught the light, "my suspicions were correct. This wand has the power to make us great sister, to make Oz great again."

There was a moment of tense silence, then the green witch began to laugh, softly at first, but growing louder and more hysterical until her cackling made her seem quite mad. Evanora smiled confidently, though she was still on edge. Theodora was unstable, unbalanced by her obsessions and paranoia. Evanora could not let her charade slip for even a moment. 

A noise on the stair made Evanora look behind her. Glinda, only partially healed, had pulled herself upright, standing as regally as a queen. Looking closer, Evanora saw that the good witch's hand clutched at the bannister for support. She would be no help at all in a fight. Evanora heard the click of heels on marble and turned back around. Theodora approached the stairs, claws outstretched. "Well, sister? Let me see it."

Evanora gritted her teeth. She'd known all along Theodora might ask to see the wand. She had her suspicions about the wand's power, but it was one thing to form a hypothesis, and quite another to hand a powerful magical object over to a lunatic. Still, as her sister approached, she knew she had no choice. The wand slipped from her fingers and into the wicked witch's hand. "No!" she heard a voice cry from near her feet. She looked down to see the china doll glaring up at her with tears in her eyes. "You horrible, lying hag! How could you! I trusted you!"

Glinda reached a hand towards the little porcelain girl, but before she could do anything Theodora elbowed her way past Evanora to stand over the doll, leering ominously. "So you're her supporter, are you? A perfect champion for her: A fragile warrior for a broken queen." With one high-heeled foot, the wicked witch kicked the china girl high in the air. 

She did not know what made her do it. Certainly she had no love for the obnoxious little thing. Perhaps it was the look of desperation in Glinda's eyes as she watched the doll fall. Perhaps it was the scream the doll emitted, so human in its terror. Or perhaps it was simply that, after all that had happened, Evanora was reluctant to kill yet another creature. Regardless of the reason, she found herself letting streams of power flow towards the doll, pulling her in for the second time that day. She placed the doll carefully in Glinda's arms, and watched with a strange satisfaction as the tiny girl clung to the blonde's dress, sobbing in relief. Glinda, too, looked on the verge of tears as her eyes met Evanora's. "Thank you", she mouthed silently, then returned her attention to the trembling doll. 

A feral shriek split the air, causing everyone to flinch. Theodora's eyes burned with an all-too-familiar fury as she advanced on her sister. "I knew it! Traitor! May you burn for all eternity!"

Raising the wand above her head, Theoroda sent a column of magical fire spiraling out of the end of it. With no place to hide, Evanora gritted her teeth and waited for the blast to hit her. But despite the impressive display of flames that poured from the want to fill the room, Evanora felt no pain, no heat from them at all. She glanced at Glinda and saw that the blonde, too, was unaffected by Theodora's inferno. Even the curtains on the windows and the furniture showed no signs of being damaged. The blaze slowly retreated until the room was dark and quiet once more. Theodora was staring at the wand in confusion, and for the briefest second Evanora saw some of the childlike insecurity that her sister had always possessed before her magical transformation. A moment later, however, the wicked witch had regained control and shifted her focus to Glinda. "You. What have you done to my magic with your cursed wand?"

Glinda stared back at her, calm and defiant even as she struggled to hide her own pain. "I've done nothing. The wand makes its own decisions as to what spells it chooses to perform."

Theodora cursed and threw the wand aside, then lunged forward to wrap her long, green fingers around the young witch's throat. "I don't even need magic for what I'm going to do to you. By the time I'm through, your precious wizard won't even recognize you - that is, if there's anything left of you for him to find."

Evanora watched as Glinda struggled for air, thin rivulets of blood running down her pale skin as the monstrous witch's claws pierced her neck. At any other time, Evanora would have used her sister's distraction to make a getaway. But the scene before her was hypnotic, and she did not have the strength to run away from it even if it meant more conflict to come. She felt paralyzed, unsure what to do. She could not attack her sister with lightning for fear of hitting Glinda, and the wicked witch's grip on the blonde kept her from pulling the young woman out of harm's way. A loud bang interrupted the struggle, followed by a roar of angry voices. Glinda's followers had finally found them, and they looked murderous. Three soldiers, armed with axes, had reduced much of the decorated oak doors to splinters, and they now stood aside to let the rest of the mob in. Evanora barely had time to see a guardsman tear Glinda away from her attacker before she herself was under assault. Rough hands pulled her to the floor, and she let out a shriek. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Theodora escape out a broken window with her broomstick. Evanora could barely see to orient herself, and she felt ropes bind her limbs to keep her helpless. It was not until she felt the rope tighten around her neck that she began to panic. The rioters dragged her up the steps of the grand staircase until they reached the first landing, ten feet above the ground. For a moment she was pressed up hard against the railing, and then she was over, falling towards the cold marble tiles, a trail of rope tying her long, fragile neck to the banister above with firm, unforgiving knots. The din of voices was so loud barely anything could be made out clearly, but Evanora thought she heard someone scream her name. Somehow she couldn't make herself care. The noose told her all she needed to know - it was over. She closed her eyes and waited for the sharp tightening of the rope that would snap her neck. It never came. 

The noise around her had faded, replaced with a sort of buzzing. Not an unpleasant sound, Evanora mused; a bit like the sound a crystal glass makes when you run a finger over its edge. She opened her eyes to find herself in the midst of the oddest spectacle she could have imagined. 

She was floating twenty feet high, encased in a pink-tinged bubble that somewhat warped her view of the figures below. The room was full of white light, and the rioters seemed stunned by the sudden brightness. The ropes that had bound her were gone without a trace. Turning her head, Evanora saw the source of her rescue. Glinda, bloodied and exhausted, stood shakily at the foot of the stairs. Around her waist clung the little china girl, and in her hand sparkled the wand that Theodora had so foolishly cast aside. Her eyes met Evanora's and she smiled wanly. Turning to address her followers, she straightened up to look as regal and imposing as a petit blonde witch could. "There is to be no more bloodshed here. Not tonight, nor any other night." Several of the munchkins looked mutinous, but she held up a hand to quash the protests. "Were it not for Evanora, I would not be standing before you now. She rescued me from her sister's tortures, defended me from harm, even healed my wounds."

"Impossible!", cried an older woman. "Wicked witches cannot heal!"

Glinda glanced at the bubble high above. "Then perhaps Evanora is not so wicked after all."

All eyes turned towards the suspended witch, and Evanora was uncomfortably aware of how many rebels still held weapons. Her hand instinctively moved to the magical green gem around her throat, the source of her power. She felt nothing. The gem was gone. Panic flooded her - where was it? Had someone taken it? Glinda? But no, it would not help a good witch. Theodora perhaps? But how? Her eyes raked the floor below, searching for the familiar green sparkle. When she finally spotted it she let out a moan of despair. Far in the back of the room, there lay a crushed pile of green fragments, glinting sadly in the light. There was a sudden tightness in her chest, she couldn't breathe. She was afraid to look at her hands, sure that in a moment they would transform into the gnarled claws of an old hag. Only the residual magic left in her body had kept her young for this long. To her horror she felt tears coming to her eyes. Witches did not cry - they were strong and powerful, in command of their magic and their emotions alike. She looked at Glinda, trying to keep the desperation off her face. Please, she thought, as though Glinda could hear her. Please, not here, not in front of all these people. If I must wither away, let it be alone in some dark corner. 

The bubble had slowly descended until it hovered a few feet from the floor. Glinda walked to it, her eyes never leaving Evanora's. When she spoke, it was for the two of them alone. "I know there is goodness in you. You hide it, but a truly wicked person would have left me chained, would have stood by and watched my shame. You have a sense of honor, a knowledge of right and wrong, and because of that you were able to use my wand's power for good. Accept your real self, and I promise you will find peace. After all, what is there left to fight over?" Her smile was as open and innocent as it had been when she was barely tall enough to reach Evanora's knees. As she extended her hand, the pink bubble disappeared and the two witches stood facing one another in silence. A long, tense moment passed. Then, taking a deep breath, Evanora reached out and took Glinda’s hand, squeezing it tightly once before turning to look at the crowd. Most still looked suspicious, but as Glinda pulled her into an embrace a low cheer seemed to start in the center of the room and work its way outwards. Evanora felt as though she were glowing with warmth; she recognized now just how much she had missed the feeling of goodness. The young woman who embraced her so openly even after she had committed the most heinous crimes was proof of good’s power over evil. More than that, it was a reminder of the days before Oz became factious and splintered, before every citizen thought only of themselves. Glinda represented the goodness at the heart of every man, woman and child in the land; even in Oz’s darkest days she had striven to find hope and goodness, and she had succeeded. A rush of gratitude overcame Evanora, and the older woman pulled Glinda closer, feeling tears start to form in her eyes. Glinda ran a hand through her hair. “It’s alright. It will take getting used to, but I think it’s time to start healing wounds, don’t you?” she gestured towards herself with a wry smile. “Metaphorical and physical, in this case.” Bowing her head, she held her wand out towards Evanora and the room hushed.

Evanora knew instantly what Glinda was trying to achieve by the gesture, and was impressed by the woman’s showmanship. If Evanora herself finished the healing, using Glinda’s own wand, it would prove to everyone that she had become good and was an ally rather than an enemy. Taking the wand with only the barest hint of hesitation, she concentrated on completing the spell as best she could remember. The response from the crowd told her she’d succeeded. The cheering grew, waves upon waves of it, as the citizens of Oz rejoiced in their newfound freedom. Gazing around at the people she had tried so hard to force into submission as her subjects, she felt a trace of apprehension. Earning their trust again would be a long and slow process, after so long a stint as a dictatress. Still, as her eyes met Glinda’s, she felt she was up to the challenge. It was time for Oz to enter a new era, an era of light and hope, and she wanted to be there to see it.


End file.
